


Drachenrücken

by wwheeljack



Category: Senjou no Valkyria | Valkyria Chronicles
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwheeljack/pseuds/wwheeljack
Summary: A night mission into the Drachenrücken mountains goes wrong and the small strike force sent to infiltrate the mountain village of Kilis is seperated. Jester, wearing the corporal's stripes that make him the leader of the strike force, has to find his way back to the Centurion and ensure that his injured squadmates survive; all while the threat of Imperials loom.





	Drachenrücken

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a mess because of how my interest fluctuated through the three weeks it took to get this done. 
> 
> Valkyria Chronicles 4 © SEGA

Jester knew something was wrong when he was roughly shaken awake by one of the _Centurion_ 's sailors, who saluted him sharply. Jester yawned and rubbed at his face before he slowly slid down from the top bunk of his quarters in the _Centurion_ , and blearily looked towards the sailor.

"What's goin' on?"

"Captain Wallace requests your presence on the bridge, Corporal Mooney, sir."

The sailor's statement gave Jester a pause, and he couldn't help the uneasy frown that tugged at his mouth. He shot a look towards the twin bunk across from his, where Laurent and Jimmy had been stationed, then looked at the bottom bunk and saw that Curtis, like Laurent and Jimmy, was sound asleep.

_Clearly, Claude only wants me. But what did I do? Ah, I knew I shouldn't have taken that promotion to corporal with such vigor!_

"The boss needs me at this hour? Maybe it's about that game-"

"No, sir," the sailor shook his head, "a mission. Captain Wallace has the full details."

"Oh…"

 _Damn. Definitely annoyed Claude if he's waking me up for a mission at 2200_. Jester let out a long sigh then gave the sailor a shrug as he hurriedly threw on his uniform, grabbed his equipment, and followed the sailor to the bridge.

The sailor departed before Jester entered the bridge, and it was with a feigned smile - Jester didn't want to annoy Claude, he just liked to gamble! - that he entered the bridge.

Immediately, Jester took note of the fact that Jascha, Ryan, Teresa and a yawning Odin were all gathered within the bridge too. Jester smiled in the direction of his squad mates, then straightened as Claude looked up from the navigation table. The captain of Squad E looked troubled, his frown noticeable even though he tried to hide it behind a neutral mask.

"Thank you for coming, Jester. I apologize for bringing all of you here at such a late hour, but we just picked up radio transmissions that we believe to be from Imperials. The _Centurion_ cannot be discovered by a platoon of Imperials, so I've been ordered to send a squad out to get eyes on the Imperials."

"What if the Imperials see us?" Teresa asked. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was chewing at her lip, a nervous tic Jester had only noticed upon Squad E's arrival on the _Centurion._

"Engage only if you have to," Claude ordered, "this is not a mission to route Imperials. We just need intel, Captain Morgen's orders."

Teresa nodded at Claude's response, but there was a troubled glint in her eyes that Jester realized he couldn't shake either. He hadn't felt comfortable with any mission since the ambush at their old Lindbergh Forward Operating Base, and tonight was no exception. He was tired and worn from the last scuffle Squad E had become entangled in, and he hated the cold and how it left him numb and miserable.

But orders were orders…

"What's the plan then?"

Claude pulled out a map of the Crystal Sea then circled a part on the map, a few islets south west of Ardaha and almost directly north of Ramdainiai. "This is the coordinates where the transmission originated from, near the village of Kilis. It is likely that, if there is a platoon of Imperials anywhere near this area, that they would be in Kilis. The problem is that Kilis can only be accessed by vehicles on an eastern road. Captain Morgen authorized the use of an APC to carry the five of you as close as it can go, but the rest of the way you'll have to travel by foot.

"I've been reading the winds and I do not believe there should be any storms or blizzards, but I would advise bringing extra provisions to be on the safe side. Jester," Claude looked directly at him, his gaze almost pleading, imploring, "you will be in command for this mission. We will outfit you with a radio and Captain Morgen has set a time of 0600, and no later, for your report."

"That… does not allow for much time to reach our destination," Jascha mused quietly. The grenadier was looking over the map laid out before Jester and the others, gray eyes seeming to trace every contour line to memory.

Jester wondered what was going through Jascha's head when the mathematician shifted, his eyebrows furrowing as a notable scowl changed his normally serious expression to one of outright worry. The fact that Jester had never seen any expression but calm, calculating stoicism from Jascha made seeing outright _worry_ on the grenadier's face unsettling.

Jester tried to shake the cloud of wariness that had settled over his shoulders, but succeeded in only making himself even more uncertain about the mission. But he knew when it was best served for him to keep quiet.

"No, it doesn't," Claude admitted quietly. "I'm not very keen on this mission, but I understand Captain Morgen's concern. And I trust every one of you."

Jester shifted a look towards Teresa, who looked fairly displeased still, then finally nodded. "I'll be ready in ten minutes, Claude. You can count on us."

* * *

Jester really was starting to hate snow.

The _Centurion_ 's APC had dropped them off at the reach of its limit within the mountainous terrain, and the five members of Squad E had been on the march since.

Odin was striding at the head of the group, his chest puffed out and eyes always searching. Teresa was walking beside Jester on his left, while Ryan marched purposefully to his right. Jascha, burdened with the weight of his portable mortar that classified him as a grenadier, was the slowest, though the former professor had made not even a comment on their pace.

Jester, in comparison, was cold, tired and he could swear some snow had snuck into his boots and melted. His feet were _freezing_!

He couldn't even remember what dry socks felt like, and the idea of his bed, as uncomfortable and stiff as it was, was a haven of warmth compared to this march in the snow. Just the thought of his blankets and the ship's ragnite heaters made the icy wind stabbing at Jester's face even more pronounced.

A shiver wracked his body before Jester pulled his uniform's fur-lined hood tighter over his head. "Damn, I miss summer."

Ryan grunted agreement beside him and, for a moment, Jester thought he saw a smile quirk over the mercenary's face. Though Jester never spoke with Ryan personally, he'd found the mercenary's skills saving Jester's, and Squad E's, hides more often than not. Jester was still surprised that Ryan had turned down the promotion to corporal Claude had offered him after the battle on the Siegval Line, especially when he considered the increase in pay the promotion garnered.

The pay had been the sole motivator for Jester leaping for the promotion Claude offered him after the battle at Lindbergh base. Jester wasn't interested in the paperwork or the increased responsibilities the promotion had brought him, but money had always been his weak spot. And it was that weakness' fault that he was marching in the snow at the most god awful time of the night.

Yes, Claude had given him the excuse that Jester was one of the best scouts for night missions, but Jester knew that his new rank had played a key role in him being chosen to lead this freezing cold mission. But being the leader of the mission meant he could make the rules, and Jester really wanted to rest for a minute. They had been walking for miles at a fairly brutal pace, and his stomach had started to growl irritably for food.

"Let's take a break," Jester ordered as he spotted a small group of rocks, dotted with snow but numerous enough to protect them should any Imperials come by, "how far are we to the village, Jascha?"

"We are ten miles from the village, though we only have three more hours until we must report in to the _Centurion_."

Jester bit at his lip and pulled out the map of the mountain range they were in, eyes scanning over the map before he looked towards Jascha. "Can we make it to Kilis?"

Jascha looked down at the map for a long, sufferable minute before he met Jester's gaze and, with an unreadable expression, said, "Unlikely. The Federation issued maps of Empire controlled territories are poorly detailed at best. They lack the true scope of these mountains, and the terrain is… difficult to calculate properly without a more accurate reference."

"Great," Jester grumbled as he sat down on a rock and began refolding the map to store it safely in the corporal's navigation pouch he wore on his uniform's left coat arm. "Then we've got to cut the break to five minutes. Do what you need - snacks or whatever - and then we move out."

"Understood," Ryan said with a nod as he, Teresa, Odin and Jascha all settled down around Jester.

Odin situated himself next to Ryan before the younger scout pulled out a bar of chocolate from his pack and offered it to the shocktrooper. Ryan took it with a nod and a surprisingly warm smile. Jester didn't know how or why the two got along, but it warmed his heart to see someone had broken through Ryan's aloof nature.

Teresa riffled through her pack beside Jester, her eyes shifting towards him with a deep worry, though she said nothing to him. Jester nudged Teresa gently with his elbow, drawing her attention away from her pack.

"I'm fine," Teresa sighed quietly, though the irritated way she flicked her ponytail over her shoulder told Jester otherwise.

"Hey, I'm not happy with this mission either. I'm missin' out on my warm sheets and Jimmy sleep talkin'. Chin up, we'll get through this. Though my socks might have somethin' to say about that." Jester joked, hoping to see Teresa's mood change.

He never liked seeing his squad mates down and, though he was no comedian like Stanley, Jester hoped that jokes at his own expense would perk up Teresa. Teresa stared at him for a second then snorted softly before she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Maybe Captain Morgen will give your socks the proper send off when we get back to the _Centurion_. Their sacrifice should be honored," Teresa scoffed, "especially considering their owner."

"Hey!" Jester scowled at Teresa and crossed his arms over his chest. "No need to be rude."

Teresa smirked suddenly as she held back a chuckle. "Well, should anything go wrong, we still have your kidneys to sell."

"What?! Don't you dare!" Jester scrambled to his feet and quickly moved away from Teresa, who was desperately trying to muffle the sharp laughs escaping from her mouth.

Ryan and Odin looked at Jester with matching expressions of bewildered unamusement, but it was Jascha who spoke up, his words hesitant and deeply confused.

"I do not… understand. How is the topic of removing Jester's _organs_ ," Jascha blanched before he cast Jester a strange look, "amusing?"

"It's a long story," Jester said before Teresa could tell the former professor the entire details of _that_ day, "and we need to move out. We've got a long way to go and I'm freezing."

Jascha blinked, his expression shifting for a brief moment to an emotion Jester couldn't decipher even in the stark light thrown by the moon, then nodded. "Yes, of course."

Quickly the five members of Squad E moved out once again, heads bowed as the wind began to kick up slightly. They trudged along, breaking through the heavy snowpack until they reached a point in the terrain that sheared off to a steep cliff. A small trail, so thin as if it had been made by wild animals, looped out of sight around the ridge - too thin for Jascha and his mortar to safely travess.

"Well… damn," Jester sighed as he tiredly rubbed at his eyes, then turned to face his squad mates. "We can't all safely use this trail to reach Kilis-"

"There was a pass a mile back that, though steep, could be traversed," Jascha interrupted. "It is illogical for all five of us to backtrack when it is only myself who cannot follow this trail. I will head back to that pass-"

"Alone?" Odin squeaked - no, that was full Thomas - his brown eye shifting between Jester and Jascha nervously. "What if the Imperials are waiting in ambush?"

"I can handle such, if it comes to that." Jascha's words were confident but Jester, tuned to reading poker faces and nervous tics, knew that the grenadier was feeling anything _but_ confidence - Jascha's eyes were averted and his words were too clipped, even for his usual reserved sternness.

"Not alone, you aren't," Jester snapped. Damn him if he'd ever willingly send any of his squad mates alone. Not on his life. "Ryan and Teresa, follow Jascha and be careful. Odin and I will follow this trail for a bit, see if it leads us to Kilis. If y'all run into Imperials, fire a flare and we'll try and get to your position as quickly as we can."

Jascha met Jester's gaze, his gray eyes searching for what Jester wasn't sure before the grenadier nodded his agreement. Ryan gave Odin a reassuring pat on the shoulder then, with Teresa biding Jester good luck, the three turned back and headed back the way they had come.

Odin fidgeted next to Jester as the backs of their three squad mates vanished from view. "Will they be okay?"

"They'll be fine. They've got Ryan with them," Jester reassured quietly. "Come on."

The thin trail was slow going, with Odin leading as Jester held the rear, his eyes shifting behind him every few feet. The ill feeling that had settled deep in Jester's stomach refused to leave, and only grew more potent and twisting as he and Odin moved further along the trail.

Gambling had honed Jester's eyes to the slightest movements, and it was this natural instinct that caught the red burst of flame that tore into the sky, high above his position. He stopped abruptly as the flare, fired over the pass where Jascha, Ryan and Teresa had split off, streaked through the sky then fizzled away. It had been a brief, bright blaze, but Jester already knew what it meant.

"The others ran into Imperials!" Jester hissed as Odin, who had been scouting ahead, rushed back to Jester's side, worry choking the younger scout's voice as he gestured towards the pass where the flare had been fired.

"We have to help them-"

It was then that the unmistakable roar of Jascha's mortar broke the air, the destructive round's blast visible even from the distance between Jester and Odin's position. The sharp crack of gunfire rattled the air, an angry bark that sounded too fast and too long to be Ryan's. Another round from Jascha's mortar cut through the sky, a blaze of fire that silenced some of the gunfire echoing through the pass.

"Move it!" Jester barked in Odin's direction before he ran towards the sound of shelling.

_Dammit, dammit, dammit! We're comin' guys-_

The sudden deafening sound of silence - louder even than the gunfire and mortar shelling - stopped Jester in his tracks. Odin stopped ahead of him, beneath a large overhang of rock, and shot Jester a confused look.

"What's wrong?"

Fear lanced through Jester's heart when he heard an unmistakable rumbling, echoing from high in the mountains. Snow fell around his feet as the deep rumbling only grew ever more pronounced.

"Avalanche!"

No hesitation struck Jester as he tackled Odin underneath the rocky overhang, just as the roar of snow and rock and ice and nature's fury obliterated all sound but for its own anger.

Odin shrank against Jester, his smaller frame shaking with terror as the avalanche roared over them. Jester pulled the younger scout closer to himself and whispered reassurances as Odin - _Thomas_ \- began to sob.

* * *

The snow from the avalanche blanketed the entire terrain, and there were a few visible trees sticking out of the snow, splintered and shattered. The avalanche had devastated the mountain side, leaving behind no evidence of Imperials or Jester's three squad mates.

Quietly, Jester turned to Odin, standing just behind him, and signaled the younger scout to split off. Odin nodded before he hurried off, skirting around snow covered rocks until he vanished from sight. It had taken quite a while for Jester to calm Odin down after the avalanche had run its course, and he was duly worried for the younger scout, but he needed his help now more than anything.

Jester prayed that his squad mates had been able to escape the avalanche, its devastation of the landscape only making him worry for their well being further. He reasoned that Ryan, at least, would be able to weather an avalanche but Teresa and Jascha?

 _Dammit!_ Jester ground his teeth frustratedly, fingers tightening on his rifle. _I shouldn't have let them go back. Squad E's supposed to stick together. Dammit, Jester._

Minutes seemed to stretch into hours as Jester searched the snow for any sign of his squad mates. The only bootprints he found where Odin's, and everywhere he looked the snow was undisturbed.

 _Maybe they did get away_ -

"Jester!" Odin's shout cracked the air like a whip, moments before the dark haired scout emerged from shadows and beckoned Jester towards him. "I found Jascha!"

The note of fear in Odin's voice snapped Jester into a run, no longer even aware of the cold, wet snow that had sunk completely into his boots. Odin finally slowed and stopped beside a large rock, and the grenadier lying below the rock, face down into the snow.

Jascha's mortar was strapped to the grenadier's back, though its metal casing was damaged and bent in places. The grenadier had not moved, but he _was_ breathing, albeit raggedly.

Worry shortened Jester's breath and made his heart plummet as he kneeled beside Jascha's body. Gently - Jester didn't know how hurt Jascha was - Jester touched the grenadier's shoulder.

Jascha's breath hitched at Jester's touch, the pained groan making Jester yank his hand away from Jascha as if the grenadier was made of fire. _He's hurt…_

"Odin, help me roll him over," Jester ordered before he gave a quiet apology to Jascha and, with Odin's assistance, rolled the grenadier onto his back.

Jascha groaned as he was gently, carefully rolled over, but he did not wake. Jester looked over his squad mate's body, his check for injuries serving to make Jester's heart sink.

The left side of the grenadier's face was beginning to turn a deep shade of black and blue, and his glasses were nowhere to be found - though there was a cut that was bleeding along his right cheek. His hands were scraped raw, with pieces of rock embedded in his skin, and a rolling of Jascha's sleeves revealed more cuts and bruises up his arms.

And there was an unmistakable patch of fresh blood coating the left side of his stomach. He'd been shot.

_Ah, hell._

"Shit, Jascha's been shot," Jester whispered, gaze turning to Odin, who looked terrified and was anxiously threading his fingers through his coat pockets. "Do you have any Ragnaid?"

Odin stared at him blankly for a moment before he suddenly nodded and pulled out a small canister of Ragnaid. Jester assisted the young man as they began cleaning Jascha's wounds and, carefully, applied Ragnaid to his wounds.

Jester hesitated at the gunshot wound, trying desperately to remember what the classes on battlefield medicine had said about gunshot wounds.

A sudden groan, one that sounded quieter than before, drug Jester out of his thoughts and to the slowly waking Jascha. The grenadier's eyes opened, though he seemed unfocused as his eyes shifted over Jester and Odin warily.

"Jester? Is that you?" Jascha's voice was weak, his breath short, and the grenadier's furrowed brows and pained grimace served to cut his words shorter.

"Yeah, it's Odin and Jester," he whispered before he gently put a hand on Jascha's left shoulder. "You're hurt pretty bad, Jascha…"

"Yes," Jascha wheezed, "I am aware."

The grenadier suddenly coughed, a hacking, tearing cough that made Jascha squirm, his mouth grinding loudly. Short breaths hissed from Jascha's mouth and nose, even as he attempted to lie still in the snow. Jester attempted to reassure Jascha, but the grenadier only looked away from him. Finally, with a wheeze that sounded like Jascha's ribs were rattling, the grenadier's hacking cough faded away.

Pain flickered like a coming rainstorm within Jascha's gray eyes before the grenadier closed his eyes and let out a low sigh. "I should have calculated for the Imperials…"

Odin moved slightly out of the corner of Jester's eye, the younger scout suddenly jerking up to peer around the small divot of land where they had found Jascha. Quietly, Odin took his rifle in his hands and moved forward, each step guarded and silent.

"Stay still," Jester hissed to Jascha, emphasizing his point with a meaningful tap on the chest before he stood and followed Odin.

Jester found Odin about a quarter mile away from Jascha, anxiously peering up the mountain. "We need to move. There might be more Imperials nearby."

"I don't know how well Jascha will do being moved, but I agree," Jester said with a glance towards where he had left Jascha.

Odin swallowed nervously then nodded. "Do you think the others were caught in the avalanche?"

"Possibly," Jester sighed as he and Odin headed back to Jascha's location, "we'll have to ask Jascha once we find a safe place to stay."

Odin gave a weary sigh, shoulders sagging, before he gave a defeated nod of his head. "We aren't going to make it back to the _Centurion_ , are we?"

"We will make it, Odin." Jester put confidence he didn't feel into his voice as the two scouts reached Jascha, who had pulled himself up into a seated position, left hand clutching his mortar while he held his injured side with his right hand.

"Imperials?" Jascha questioned.

Jester made note of the way Jascha was squinting in their direction with a dull, poorly focused gaze as he spoke - then remembered the fact that neither he nor Odin had found Jascha's glasses. _If Jascha can't see us when we're this close to him, how is he going to see a patrol of Imperials headed our way? Hell, how is he going to be able to fight with that broken mortar launcher of his and his injuries? We need to find somewhere safe where Odin and I can hold off the Imperials, and protect Jascha._

"None yet," Jester answered with a shake of his head. "But we need to find somewhere that we can hide, in case there are more Imperials in these mountains."

"Understood," Jascha hissed through clenched teeth before he pushed himself to his feet slowly, using his damaged mortar as a support before he faced Jester and Odin. "Ready to move-"

Jester lunged forward, catching Jascha just as the grenadier's legs failed him. Odin hurried to Jester's side, assisting him in supporting Jascha as the grenadier let out a humorless chuckle.

"A… fatal… miscalculation…"

Another round of coughs seized Jascha's body, staggering the injured grenadier until he was slumped against Jester. Jester shot Odin a worried glance, made worse by the blood falling from Jascha's mouth, streaking Jester's uniform crimson.

With Odin's help, Jester hefted Jascha onto his back and, with his rifle's sling thrown around his back so that the Brown M10 was uncomfortably laid across his chest, set out. Odin hurried by his side, his own arms ladened with Jascha's damaged mortar, though the younger scout always had one hand ready to assist Jester with Jascha.

Jester didn't know how long they walked, or even if they were going in the right direction, when Odin suddenly let out an excited cry and pointed to a stream, bordered heavily by trees large enough to cloak them from prying Imperial eyes. Jester searched for the dryest piece of land and, finding it underneath a fairy's ring of trees, placed Jascha down.

Odin set Jascha's mortar down against one of the trees before he hurried to Jester's side and removed his pack from his back. "I have some food and supplies in there. I'll scout around and make sure we aren't near any Imperial camps."

"Be safe," Jester urged the younger scout before he bolted away into the trees, leaving Jester alone with the unconscious Jascha.

Worry gnawed at Jester's stomach as he assessed Jascha's injuries. The grenadier's breathing had gotten shallower and his skin had paled, and a thorough check of his injuries showed that the Ragnaid had done little to help Jascha.

A thorough search of Odin's pack revealed no more cases of Ragnaid, though the scout had brought a judicious amount of gauze - plenty enough that Jester could at least bandage the grenadier's injuries. But he needed to get Jascha warm first, least hypothermia set in.

To his relief, he found a ground cloth, small though it was, in Odin's pack. Jester quickly unrolled the cloth, though he stopped when he saw a small note fall out of the cloth onto the ground. Curious, Jester picked up the note and saw thin letters addressed to Thomas, from the scout's mother - she had signed it " _with love, from Mommy"_.

Jester couldn't help but give a light chuckle at the note, but he stashed it back into Odin's pack and set to work. After he had laid out the ground cloth and shifted Jascha onto it, Jester was relieved to realize that the wool blanket he'd forgotten to remove from his pack weeks ago was still stashed deep within its contents. But he knew that the wool blanket wasn't enough and, with a sigh, Jester removes his sleeping roll from his pack.

Claude had suggested the five bring enough supplies for an emergency overnight stay in the snow - almost as if Claude already knew that the mission was going to go south - and Jester was glad he'd listened. The idea of curling up in his sleeping roll, designed for freezing temperatures like now, was almost irresistible but Jester knew he could handle the cold better than his injured companion.

Jester hated having to move Jascha even more, but it was necessary for him to fit the sleeping roll and wool blanket around the grenadier. And it was only after he'd ensured that Jascha had been taken care of - each wound bandaged and cleaned to the best of Jester's ability, and their last container of Ragnaid consumed by the grenadier's extensive injuries - and the grenadier's body given as much protection from the cold as Jester could provide, that Jester felt exhaustion hit him. He'd been up for who knew how many hours, marching through snow up a godforsaken mountain and he was _tired_.

A yawn escaped from Jester before he could stop it and, even as he tried desperately to fight off the darkness of sleep that was calling to him, he slumped close to Jascha and let sleep claim him.

* * *

The smell of smoke and fire drew Jester from sleep, though his eyes were blurry and stiff with exhaustion still. He stretched and yawned then, making sure to not disturb Jascha, pulled himself to his feet.

Just a few feet from where he had been resting sat Odin, who was poking at a small fire with a stick.

"You got a fire started out here? Good job, Odin!"

The younger scout whirled around at Jester's compliment, the shock in his expression not able to mask the pride that flashed through his eyes. "Yes," Odin said with a haughty smile, "it is a simple task for a god of war. Was almost not worth my time."

Jester blinked at Odin then jerked his head towards Jascha. "How's he doin'?"

Odom's confident veneer dropped immediately at Jester's question. His head hung and he nervously kicked at the ground with his right foot. "He hasn't woken up yet, not even when I tried to give him some water. I… I'm scared, Jester…"

Sometimes Jester forgot about how young and timid Odin was, what with his god of war act, but the reminder sat heavily within his chest. "It's okay to be scared," Jester said, "and you aren't the only one afraid here. We've missed our report in deadline, Jascha's badly injured and we have no idea where Ryan or Teresa are."

Odin scuffed his boot into the ground again but nodded his understanding, moments before the scout let out a loud yawn.

"I'll keep watch," Jester ordered, "rest up."

"Are you sure?" Odin asked, his eyes shifting around the densely wooded valley warily. "I didn't see any Imperials when I scouted around, but they could be anywhere."

"I'm sure. Get some rest."

Odin hung his head before he agreed with an acquesioning nod. "Understood, sir."

Jester watched the scout as he poked at the fire one last time, then curled up close to Jascha. Soon, the soft sounds of Odin's snoring joined with the quiet gurgle of the nearly frozen stream that had drawn Odin and Jester to this spot.

Once he was certain Odin had fallen asleep, Jester pushed himself to his feet, took his rifle and a set of binoculars from his pack, and headed out on patrol.

Everything but for the crunch of his boots was silent, as he couldn't even hear the wind. It was eerie and made Jester on edge, a stress he tried to force away by grinding at the shoot of grass he always carried between his teeth. But it did little to ease his mind, and so he stopped, focusing completely on listening for anything odd.

Jester stopped at a ridge line that gave him ample view of the mountain range - but no Crystal Sea. Jester turned around and squinted but still saw no evidence of the Crystal Sea.

_Shit. We backtracked the wrong way._

Frustration clawed at Jester's stomach as he unclasped the navigation kit from his arm and drew out the map. Like Jascha had said hours ago, the level of detail on the Federation issued map was laughably poor.

Nowhere on the map did he see the small valley Odin had found and, though he was no expert at reading topographic maps, every contour line looked off. He could roughly estimate where the APC had dropped them off at, mainly thanks to the fact he'd circled it off, but after that Jester was clueless. The ridge lines the map showed and the way the five members of Squad E had traveled was hard to compare.

Guessing where the group had walked, Jester drew a line from the APC's drop off point and to where he and Odin had found Jascha. But what ridge line were they on now?

Jester sighed, shook his head, stashed the map away safely and followed his tracks all the way back to the wooded valley. When he made his way into the trees, he noticed that Odin had woken up and was, once again, stoking the fire with his charred branch.

Suddenly Odin's head snapped up, his grip on the branch loosening before the scout snarled a quiet, "Thunder!?"

"Flash," Jester responded quickly, "it's just me, Odin."

"Al-alright," Odin stammered, "see anything out there?"

"No Imperials and no Crystal Sea."

Odin blinked dumbly at Jester's response, his eyes tracking Jester as he sat down across from Odin. "What do you mean by ' _no Crystal Sea_ '?"

"I think we're on an eastern ridge, out of sight from the sea," Jester suggested, "and thus lost. Stupid Federation maps."

"Oh…" Odin kicked at the dirt nearest him and rubbed at his eyes with his right hand. "Great."

"Don't lose hope yet, Odin. We just need to head west and we'll find the sea and the _Centurion_."

"And how long will that take, especially with Jascha in his state?"

"I don't know," Jester admitted quietly, "but we aren't leaving Jascha, even if it does take us days to get back to the sea."

"How illogical."

The sound of Jascha's cold voice jerked Jester and Odin from their conversation, leaving Odin mid-sentence as Jester jerked his head towards Jascha. Jascha had pushed himself onto his elbow and was glaring at them with tired eyes.

"What's illogical, Jascha?"

"Staying in Imperial occupied territory because of my injuries is foolhardy. Your… sentiment is illogical." Jascha's tone was bitter, as cold as the snow surrounding them, and tinged with anger.

Jester gaped at the grenadier then rubbed at his eyes, suddenly exhausted with Jascha. "I don't care whether you think it's logical or not, Jascha, but Odin and I are not leaving you here. That's not how we do things in Squad E."

"Then you are both fools," Jascha hissed before he turned his back on Jester and Odin and burrowed back into Jester's bed roll lined with the wool blanket.

Jester sighed and ground irritably at the brutalized stalk of grass shoved between his teeth. Jascha was going to drive him crazy, and he could already feel a pounding headache coming on as his stomach growled for sustenance. He was hungry, cold, and he couldn't shake the fact that he still didn't know what had happened to Teresa and Ryan.

"Jascha?"

No answer came from the grenadier, all but for a tired sigh that seemed to hold more bitterness than Jester thought was possible from the former professor. Something had to be bothering Jascha if he was so openly expressive of an emotion, and Jester suspected it had nothing to do with his injuries.

"Do you know what happened to Ryan or Teresa? Odin and I weren't able to find them after the avalanche and…"

"I do not know what became of them," Jascha admitted. "I ordered them to retreat to your position while I held off the Imperials. I tried to hold off the enemy platoon long enough for those two to escape, but..."

Jascha cut himself off with a wry snort before he continued, though his tone was laced with such venom that Jester had to share a worried glance with Odin.

"It was a platoon of Imperials, and they saw us first. Teresa was hit in the shoulder before we had the chance to react to the Imperials. I knew Ryan would not be able to hold off an entire platoon of Imperials without Teresa's help, and it was purely logical that my mortar and I could hold off the Imperials long enough so Teresa and Ryan could escape.

"I tried to hold them off, but there were too many… and that is when I made the risky calculation of setting off the avalanche. I had calculated the snow load earlier and knew that there was enough-"

"Hold on," Odin interrupted, " _you_ set off the avalanche?"

"It… it was the only option I could think of," Jascha swallowed and it was then that Jester realized that the bitterness he'd heard in Jascha's words was aimed directly at the grenadier himself. "I had promised Ryan and Teresa I would hold off the Imperials… and that was the only way. I thought that I would have enough time to escape but I did not calculate for being shot. I don't remember much after that, but it is quite clear that I too was caught by the avalanche."

"And you think Ryan and Teresa were caught in the avalanche, don't ya?" Jester finished quietly.

Jascha said nothing in return but, for everything he did not say out loud, his thoughts were as loud as thunder.

_If Jascha has convinced himself that his choice in setting off the avalanche could have gotten Ryan and Teresa hurt… I can understand why he's so bitter..._

No one said a word for a long minute, though Odin did approach Jascha and sat beside him quietly. Jester joined his fellow scout and grenadier before he placed a reassuring hand on Jascha's shoulder.

"Ryan and Teresa are tough, they'll be fine. Don't start blaming yourself for something that might not have happened-"

"But I can't _accept_ the thought of making such an egregious error that two of our squad could very well be dead right now. I accept that my failure to factor in the Imperials led me to being this injured, but I cannot do the same for Ryan and Teresa," Jascha snapped, though he did not remove Jester's hand from his shoulder - to the corporal's surprise.

"Look, if I know Ryan," Odin interjected, "he's already found Kilis, taken care of the rest of the Imperials, and is headed back to the _Centurion_. An avalanche won't stop him."

"And Teresa's a smart gal. She can find her way out of a scrap, trust me."

Jascha looked unconvinced but he did not openly refute Odin or Jester's statements. Instead, the grenadier shimmied out of Jester's bed roll and marched to the fire. Jascha shot both Jester and Odin a glare, made of sternness rather than anger, before he unholstered his service pistol and jerked his head towards them.

"I have rested enough, I will take the next rotation of watch." Jascha's tone was level but as firm as steel. It was obvious to Jester that Jascha wanted no argument, and he didn't intend to argue with an irritated mathematician carrying a loaded pistol.

Odin, on the other hand, decided to argue, gesturing towards Jascha's injuries before he crossed his arms and scowled. "You're injured, Jascha. You need the rest more than Jester and I do-"

"I am not open to arguments, Thomas," Jascha snapped, "and that is final. Jester's Ragnaid has stabilized my injuries for the time being. I can handle this."

Odin opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of the idea for, with a shrug, he backed down.

"Wake us if you hear anything, Jascha," Jester reminded the grenadier before he pulled his sleeping roll over himself and fell into sleep.

* * *

"Get up."

Jester was up, out of his sleeping roll and with his rifle in hand, before his brain had fully processed Jascha's voice. He turned to see that Jascha was hovering near him, his gray eyes shifting around the valley, and his pistol in hand. The fire had been scuffed out and there wasn't even a whiff of ash or wood smoke in the air.

"What is it?" Jester hissed as he quietly woke Odin, who had been curled in a small ball within his sleeping roll.

Odin yawned and rubbed at his eyes blearily, though he quickly got to his feet once he saw the rigid stances of Jester and Jascha. Quickly, the young scout gathered his rifle and moved to flank Jester.

"Someone's coming. I heard voices-"

"Ryan?" Odin asked.

"Absolutely not," Jascha answered with a shake of his head. "I heard at least three distinct voices, and all with Imperial accents."

"How close do you think they are?"

"Close enough that they will find us if we stay here."

Jester glanced around the valley, sighed, then nodded. "Pack up. Let's go."

They worked quickly to remove all evidence of their occupation of the valley then, ears pricked and eyes ever watchful, the three set out. Jester intended to take point until Jascha moved past him and, with steps that seemed forced in their deliberateness, led them down, walking in the stream.

Jester knew that Jascha was hoping on the stream disguising their tracks, but _damn it all_ were his feet freezing. The _Centurion_ crew had provided them with water resistant combat boots, but it could only work so well in freezing water. He just hoped the Imperials Jascha has heard weren't following them.

It was around 1400 hours, judging from the sun's position, when Jascha stopped by a small pool and sat down on a rock. Jester was welcome to the idea of resting and getting his feet out of the stream, so he was more than happy to stop.

Odin sat down next to the rock and hurriedly glanced through his pack before he produced a bar of chocolate. He broke the bar in half before handing a piece to Jester then Jascha.

They ate in momentary silence before Jester, feeling the poor mood souring the air, turned to Odin. "Odin, you know your mother left you a note in your pack. I found it on your wool blanket, but I did not read it."

Odin's face turned as white as the snow surrounding them before he scrambled through his pack and retrieved the folded piece of paper. He shot Jester a look and then opened it, reading it silently before the young scout stashed the note back into his pack.

"She said she loves me and wishes me safety and good luck… maybe she should have thought of that before she sent me to war…"

Odin looked on the verge of tears as he spoke with a fearful bitterness. Jester nudged the young scout and gave him a reassuring smile.

"From all I've seen, you're a damned good scout, Odin. You just need to keep your wits about you and you'll do fine."

"I… I guess," Odin mumbled, unconvinced. "But I don't have your confidence, Jester. How can I do anything but worry about this war and what could happen to me? I'm pathetic, just like Lily said…"

Jester almost laughed at Odin's implication, if only because he wouldn't equate his feelings for the war with confidence. "Trust me, Odin, I'm anything but confident. This war is getting crazier every day, and I'm no more confident in what will happen to me than I am able to bet on. And it's okay to be afraid."

Odin looked away from him with a small nod, though his shoulders were slumped miserably. "I wish I was at home…"

"I know," Jester sighed, "I know…"

A quiet groan from his left drew Jester's gaze to Jascha, who was clutching at his side with a pained grimace.

"Jascha? You alright?" Jester asked quietly, though he already knew the answer from Jascha's pained expression.

"I have been better," Jascha hissed through clenched teeth, before he shook his head and turned a steel sharp glare to the mountains behind them. "We have quite a ways to go before we reach the Crystal Sea. I tried my best to plot out a route on that useless map of yours, Jester, but your compass seems to be broken…"

"Oh… yes," Jester admitted as he ruffled his hair self-consciously, "I forgot to get that fixed a few days ago, sorry."

"No matter, that is not here and now," the grenadier stated coolly.

"That may not," Odin suddenly snapped as he shot to his feet and sent Jascha a glare, "but your injuries are. You said that Jester's Ragnaid stabilized your injuries, but you don't look that 'stable'. Did you lie just so we'd move on? Jester and I can't be left in the dark, not if we are going to make it off this mountain alive - all three of us."

Jester had to look twice at Odin for, in all the months he had known the young man, he had never seen him so sternly reprimand one of his squad mates. The Odin part of Thomas Kevin was a front that everyone knew the young scout put up to hide his insecurities and timidness towards battle. He wasn't really bold… not enough to talk back to a higher ranked soldier as Jascha was.

And Jascha seemed even more surprised. The gray haired grenadier blinked, clearly taken aback as Odin stared him down. Jester watched wordlessly as the scout and grenadier waged a silent war of wills before, with a sigh layered with what Jester could only describe as defeat, Jascha lowered his head.

The grenadier's shoulders slumped and all pretense of stubborn sternness faded until all Jester could see from Jascha was a tiredness that seemed as ancient as the mountains. "At that time it was not a lie; Jester's Ragnaid did stabilize my injuries enough that I was not bleeding, nor was I aware of… of the severity of my injuries. I see no logical reasoning behind lying, least of all when we are in a situation as dangerous as this."

Odin crossed his arms over his chest before the young scout sighed and stared at the snow at his feet. "You need to keep us up to date on how you're doing. Alright?"

Jascha's eyes shifted towards Jester briefly before he sighed tiredly. "Very well."

* * *

Jester heard Odin shift in his bedroll, clearly still unable to sleep, and snort irritably. A few moments later, Odin sat beside Jester and rubbed at his face.

"Can't sleep, huh?" Jester asked as he watched Odin pick at pieces of leaves and rocks that were under his hands.

The young scout shrugged and let out a laugh that crawled through the air without humor. "My tummy hurts… I wish I had that chocolate bar I gave Ryan. I'm hungry, sore and I miss my parents' basement. No, I can't sleep."

Odin's words sounded high and strained and it concerned Jester. They had walked for hours, all the way until dusk had made travel through the perilous mountain terrain impossible, and stopped only when Jascha had almost collapsed from exhaustion. Odin had tried to act tough and unbothered by the trek, but the scout's belly had been growling for hours in an attempt to undermine Odin's attempts.

Jester placed a hand gently on Odin's shoulder and attempted a comforting smile. He was exhausted and hungry too, and had given up his last rations to Jascha and Odin, but he knew he _had_ to keep strong for the three of them.

He was worried for both Odin and Jascha. Odin was quieter, and seemed to have forgotten his Odin persona as the hours dragged on. And Jascha, who had been quiet and solemn and stone faced, had not said a word since that break hours ago. The grenadier was awake even now, though he only was staring at the trees with a distant look that seemed too unlike Jascha for the man to be anything close to alright.

Jester cast a glance to Odin, who was still picking at the ground, then slowly stood and approached Jascha.

"What do you want, Jester?" Jascha turned to face him, eyes narrowed in a squint as Jester looked down at the grenadier.

"I'm just checking in on you," Jester stated with a frustrated sigh as he sat down beside Jascha.

"I am doing… alright. You needn't worry so much over my injuries." Jascha bit the words out as if they were shards of glass, a venom that seemed half hearted in its passiveness.

Jester grunted in response and nodded. "It's my job as corporal and the leader of this mess of a mission to worry, Jascha. Why are you so adamant about pushing away the concerns Odin and I have for you?"

Jascha said nothing, and left a silence so thick with tension and emotion that Jester couldn't decipher what the grenadier was thinking. "It is not… I am only being realistic. You two are fit and able to defend us, I do not need to burden either of you with my issues."

"Goddamn you are one stubborn man, aren't you?" Jester sighed. His head was going to split with all of this talking in circles with Jascha.

"It is not in my nature to dwell on emotions - it is illogical, after all - and I am not being stubborn. Unlike you or Odin, I do not find any reason to linger on matters that cannot be solved with math. I do not believe it necessary that both of you worry so much about me when we have a greater concern of Imperials in these mountains."

Jester narrowed his eyes at Jascha's statement. It was obvious by the professor's words that he found the two scouts' concern as nonsense, but something in those gray eyes made Jester hesitate. He'd seen something similar once before, many years ago, and seeing it in the flicker of Jascha's eyes made him curious - and pause to wonder if he really understood the reserved professor.

If he were to get to the root of what was keeping Jascha so closed in, he'd have to tread carefully with what he said. The shuffle of feet drew Jester's gaze to Odin, who had moved from his previous spot and was just sitting down beside Jester, before the young scout peered over at Jascha.

"Why'd you join the Edinburgh army?" Odin asked, his head tilted as he looked at Jascha.

"Because I did not wish to be enlisted once my home country of Bergen was inevitably invaded by the Empire." Jascha's words were even but, at the edge of his sentence sat a coldness that was more akin to a glacier than snow. "The Nord Republic has long waged war with its ideals and with the Imperials alike. A part of the population has argued for joining the Empire, while a significant portion only want to protect their homes. In the town I am from, most agreed with the former of the two sides. I did not. I saw no reason to sit around any longer and allow the Empire to destroy my home unbidden.

"Volunteering was the most logical choice to ensure that I was placed where my skills would be most beneficial in this war. I have not been home to Rotsund in two years, but joining this war is not a decision I regret. Idleness has never been something I've been comfortable with."

Odin gave a weak laugh before he gave a loose shrug of his shoulders. "Sounds a whole lot more… noble than my reasons for being here."

"Noble?" Jascha questioned, a flicker of confusion showing across his bruised face as he tilted his head - Jester thought the grenadier looked oddly similar to an owl with how he had his head turned.

"Uh… well," Odin stammered, "you volunteered to fight… I was enlisted by my mother. That's a lot more, uh, well… yeah…"

"I did what was my duty," Jascha said slowly, and Jester was more than certain he heard something deep and angry within Jascha's words. "That is the one value my parents instilled in me. To do what is expected of me, always."

Jascha didn't sound bitter, at least not a bitterness that would be familiar to Jester, but his voice rose slightly, just enough to confirm Jester's suspicions. Sometimes he wished he couldn't read others so well, if only because he didn't _want_ to know the secret parts of his squadmates, but he did.

And, judging by Odin's quietness, the scout had caught Jascha's tell too. Jester wasn't certain of what to say to Jascha, whether the grenadier was even open to comfort or concern, and so he kept uncertainly quiet.

Then, to Jester's surprise, Jascha let out a drawn, tired sigh before he glanced towards Jester and Odin. "If I caused injury to Ryan or Teresa - or, worse, their deaths - than I have failed. I was arrogant enough to believe that I could safely start an avalanche without hurting my allies. I deserve these injuries, if not worse for attempting such a feat."

"We aren't even sure either Ryan or Teresa were caught in the avalanche," Jester reminded the grenadier, "we don't know."

Jascha scowled, looking like he wanted to retort for a minute that stretched on until the gray-haired man finally shook his head and sighed. "I truly hope they are both alright. I do not like the uncertainty of not knowing where they are… I… I am afraid of how worrying for them has affected me. I do _not_ like the irrationality of emotions."

Jester knew that was as close to an admittance of Jascha's fallible human side as he'd get, but he didn't like it. Jascha was so fixated on the idea - as probable or as improbable as it was - that he'd hurt their missing squad mates, that he was losing real logic and ignoring his injuries. It was obvious by the pallor of his skin and the strained way he spoke and breathed, that Jascha was suffering. And there were no more stores of Ragnaid to help heal his wounds.

"Worrying isn't irrational," Odin laughed humorlessly, "not that a god of battle would ever worry but-"

The crack of a branch snapped through the air, moments before Jester was sent backwards as if hit by a punch. Pain blossomed in his shoulder as the Imperial's rifle barked through the quiet air. Jester had been shot a few times over his deployment but he still hadn't gotten used to the feeling.

He heard Odin swear and dive away, scrambling behind trees as Jester gathered himself. Imperials were rushing them, though the poor lighting from the half moon seemed to hinder the Imperials as much it did Jester's allies.

"Jascha, move!" Odin shouted from the trees, his words rousing the grenadier with a worried sound.

Jester ran to where he'd laid out his sleeping roll, his rifle resting on it as he spoke with Jascha and Odin - _stupid, stupid, stupid!_ \- and dove behind a small tree. Risking a glance behind the tree he was using as cover, Jester watched as three of the Imperials ran after the fleeing form of Jascha.

Two more were shooting in the direction of Odin's shots, his rifle sending round after inaccurate round towards the Imperials, and the rest were warily prowling in his direction.

One of the Imperials, a tall, blond haired man who looked no older than Odin, barked an order in the Imperial language and gestured towards the tree Jester was hiding behind. A small Imperial with a submachine gun nodded before he slowly stepped in Jester's direction.

_Ah, hell…_

Jester tightened his grip on his rifle, finger hovering over the trigger, as he slowly shifted around the tree to face the approaching Imperial and angled the muzzle of his rifle towards the Imperial. He knew he'd have only a few seconds to move from his current cover once he fired, and they'd be dangerous seconds.

Odin's rifle barked again and it was then that Jester fired. His target staggered and gasped, but the Shocktrooper recovered quickly and emptied his submachine gun's magazine in Jester's direction.

Pieces of tree branch and bark struck Jester's face as he ducked the spray of bullets and fired a second round. This time, Jester's aim was on point and the shocktrooper went down with a gurgling scream.

The Imperial commander let out an enraged roar and returned fire as Jester scrambled away from the tree. He didn't know where Jascha or Odin had gone, though he could still hear Odin's rifle in the distance, but he had to find them-

He was thrown to the ground with a force as if he'd been punched-

Jester's left side screamed - he'd been shot again! - and even the slightest movement sent bolts of lightning through his body. _Damn!_

He put his left hand to his side and felt the blood that traced over his fingers, then scrambled to his feet. He ground his teeth against the pain, though his head did not cooperate so nicely.

As he steadied himself on a pine tree, Jester's vision swam and his hungry stomach dizzied him. He staggered on his feet, though he tried desperately to chase it away with a stern shake of his head.

"Damn," Jester hissed to himself as his vision blurred even further.

His body was exhausted, hungry and very unhappy with being shot twice… but he needed to get to his squad mates. Jester turned his head slowly towards the disturbed camp, and waited for his vision to focus. When it finally did, he noticed that the Imperials who had been investigating their camp were gone, all but for the commander.

The commander was pacing back and forth, his eyes searching the trees for Jester, his rifle held up and braced. Jester couldn't hear any more shots from Odin's Brown M10, which worried him deeply.

Making sure that the Imperial was not looking in his direction, and with his Brown M10 held tight, Jester slowly crept through the trees towards where he'd last heard the report of Odin's rifle. But he had only taken a few steps before he heard Imperials voices shout and then heard a pained grunt of someone hitting the ground.

Carefully, Jester crept close enough that he could see the Imperials, three of whom were standing over Jascha's prone form while the Imperial commander looked down at Jascha coldly. One of the Imperials struck Jascha in the face with the butt of his gun before he spoke quietly to his commander. Jester knew a bit of the Imperial language - he'd picked it up while gambling in an imperial city years ago - at least enough to understand what the Imperials were saying.

"This one's injured, sir. We found him trying to escape, but he was easy to catch. I'm not sure about the others, or how many Federation goons are in these mountains but we need to be careful."

The commander nodded before he crouched down beside Jascha, grabbed his jaw and twisted the grenadier's face towards him. Jester watched the Imperial, his grip on his rifle growing clammy with sweat, a scowl tugging at his lips as the Imperial commander glared into Jascha's eyes.

When the man spoke, it was not in the language of the Empire, but the Federation's, and he sounded _furious_. "You are a grenadier, then it must be you who set that avalanche off that killed an entire platoon of my men."

Jascha met the Imperial's eyes before he let out a strained breath and tried to jerk out of the Imperial's grasp. The Imperial snarled and slammed Jascha's head against the ground, hard enough that Jester could hear Jascha's nose break.

"Answer me!"

Jascha's eyes flicked away from the Imperial, before he swallowed and, in a thick voice, answered. "You are correct."

The Imperial snarled before he let go of Jascha's chin and turned to his men. "Find the others, I will watch this one."

"Yes, sir!"

The three Imperials snapped a salute then hurried into the trees, heading towards Odin's direction.

Jester glanced towards Jascha, struck suddenly by a choice he hated to make. He knew Odin was one of the best shots in the entire squad, but he would be outnumbered - if the Imperials hadn't already found him - and he only had so much ammo. The scout would need his help, but so did Jascha.

_Taking out the commander will draw some of the Imperials back here and-_

Decided, Jester kneeled and aimed his rifle at the Imperial commander's back. He took a second to steady his aim then fired.

The Imperial hit the ground at the impact of the bullet, scrambling to his feet as Jester hurriedly aimed and fired at the Imperial again. His second shot missed, but he had achieved what he wanted in getting the man to back off from Jascha. Jester scrambled to his feet and hurried towards Jascha, who was shaking his head in Jester's direction vigorously as he approached.

Suddenly a bullet whizzed past his ear, missing Jester by mere inches and drawing him to instinctively take cover behind a tree once again. The Imperial commander limped back into his view, rifle aimed at Jascha's head before the blond Imperial sent a cold glare in Jester's direction.

"Come out now, Federation scum, or I will take great pleasure in executing your ally here." The Imperial's gruff, gravelly voice chopped through the Federation words, but his meaning was clear nonetheless.

Jester hesitated, uncertain of the gamble between approaching the Imperial or not. He knew that the Imperial would subdue him if he approached - and there was no way Jester would make any foolish movements while his squad mate was facing the muzzle of a rifle - and if he _didn't_ approach the Imperial?

If Jester didn't reveal himself, the Imperial would execute Jascha on the spot before Jester would be able to fire his own rifle. The thought - the mere idea - of being responsible for the death of one his squad mates sickened Jester. He hated the fact that he was leaving Odin to fend for himself, but he couldn't leave Jascha.

"Alright, I'm coming out, so don't shoot him," Jester shouted, his eyes shifting to Jascha's prone form as he spoke.

He noticed Jascha jerk his head and mouth a silent "no" as Jester slowly emerged from the trees, his rifle still in hand, the grenadier's mouth turning down into a snarl as he vigorously shook his head again.

The Imperial stiffened before he shoved the muzzle of his rifle against Jascha and sent a burning glare towards Jester. "Leave your rifle."

Jester looked down at his rifle before he relented and slowly placed his Brown M10 onto the ground. The Imperial snarled in his language, his eyes smoldering and his teeth bared like a wolf, as he slowly approached Jester. The man's eyes traveled over Jester with a predatory hunger before he stopped short on the corporal's stripes on Jester's sleeves.

"Ah, the commanding officer," the Imperial spat. "What would a corporal from the Federation be doing here in the Drachenrücken? You are quite far from home, aren't you?"

Jester said nothing, electing instead to meet the Imperial's eyes and hold his glare. The Imperial curled his lip at Jester's lack of an answer then, before Jester could react, struck Jester in the jaw with a fist that sent him sprawling.

"How many more of you Federation scum are hiding in these mountains? Answer me!"

"Not gonna," Jester wheezed as he slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and rubbed at the blood trickling down his mouth. He was even more aware of the fact he'd been shot twice, now that his adrenaline was running out, and his vision had started to swim.

_Hold it together, Jester!_

A snarl hissed from above Jester before he felt a boot slam into his ribs, a jolt of agony that staggered him back onto his stomach. The Imperial roared above him before Jester felt the cold steel of the Imperial's rifle pressed between his shoulder blades.

A loud crack exploded from behind Jester, followed by a gasping wheeze from the Imperial commander. Instinct took over as Jester rolled away from the Imperial, who was weakly staggering, and pulled his rifle up from where he'd left it. Jester sighted the rifle towards the Imperial and, without waiting, pulled the trigger.

The Imperial commander was struck, his body sent backwards from the force of the bullet's impact, falling into the snow with a distinct thud. When no movement came from the stricken Imperial, Jester turned and hurried to Jascha.

The grenadier was laid on his side, his service pistol clutched firmly in his right hand. His gray eyes narrowed upon Jester's approach, and it was with a cautious strain Jascha next spoke.

"Are you alright, Jester?"

"Yes, thanks to you," Jester tried to keep his tone light and relaxed as he slowly helped Jascha to his feet. "We need to find Odin."

Jascha leaned his shoulder into Jester, though his legs wavered underneath him. Jester steadied his squad mate, bracing the grenadier with his left arm under the injured man's armpit. Jester had to practically drag Jascha towards the shelter of trees, and it was becoming quite apparent by the increasing weight on Jester's shoulder that Jascha's strength was running out.

"Commander?! Commander!"

It took a second for Jester to recognize that the voice echoing through the trees was Imperial, a second that he had to shove Jascha into the snow at their feet and throw himself over the grenadier. Jascha let out a grunt as Jester pushed his full weight on the man, but he kept quiet as the Imperial voices grew closer.

Soon, the four remaining Imperials appeared from the trees, and it was the sight of Odin - banged up and clearly injured, even from the poor lighting - being dragged between two of the Imperials that made Jester gasp in shock.

The young scout was not moving, his head hung and feet dragging, and, even when the two Imperials carrying Odin threw the scout to the ground, he did not move. Worry stabbed through Jester's chest as one of the Imperials kicked Odin in the ribs, while the smallest of the group approached their deceased commander.

"The commander's down!" The Imperial shouted, his Imperial language fraught with nerves as he stood and jerked his gaze around the clearing.

One Imperial, another shocktrooper, tensed at the words and warily scanned the trees nearest him. "It had to be that grenadier we left Commander Falchen with. When I find him, he'll pay, Federation scum!"

"Calm yourself, Private," the one who'd kicked Odin snarled, "we know there's another of these Federation troops around. Find him first."

The reprimanded Imperial growled under his breath but nodded his agreement before he wandered off into the trees in the direction the Imperials had come from.

Movement underneath Jester drew his focus back to Jascha, who was shifting uncomfortably beneath him. Jascha shifted under Jester before he let out a strained sigh and whispered, "What's happening?"

"Imperials have Odin."

Jascha stiffened at Jester's answer, his gray eyes shifting between the Imperials - likely just blurs to the grenadier, Jester realized - then back to Jester. The grenadier said nothing for some seconds that seemed eternities long before Jascha spoke, his voice coldly stricken of emotion and empty of even pain.

"Let me distract the Imperials. You will need to flank the Imperials, and remove Odin from their capture as quickly as you can."

"What? No! I'm the corporal, it's my responsibility to protect you, and Odin. And you can hardly walk! I am not going to allow-"

Jascha's glare silenced Jester mid-protest, the anger simmering within his gray eyes stark. Jester wasn't a confrontational person - he preferred avoiding it if he could - and he did not want to get into another argument with Jascha… but…

"Jascha, I…"

Guilt flooded Jester's chest even as he slowly maneuvered off Jascha and gave the grenadier a hand up. Jascha gave him a stern nod while his gray eyes flickered with an emotion Jester couldn't decipher.

"Do not wait for me once you have Odin," Jascha snarled as he turned away from Jester and marched into the clearing. If Jester hadn't seen Jascha's injuries for himself, he wouldn't be able to tell by the proud, determined march of his feet, that Jascha had been almost unable to stand minutes earlier.

The Imperials stiffened at Jascha's approach, their guns raising as if in slow motion towards the grenadier-

Odin shouted for Jascha, the young scout's voice hoarse with fear-

Jascha drew his service pistol-

Bullets shattered the air, belting like the roar of a dragon as two Imperials - _Imperials!_ \- fell, unmoving, to the ground. The remaining two turned, stunned out of their concentration long enough for Jester and Jascha to both gun down their enemy.

Jester ran to Jascha's side, catching the grenadier as his legs gave out underneath him, then turned his head towards the two approaching members of Squad E.

Smoke wafted from the barrel of Ryan's submachine gun, his eyes hard as flint as he stopped beside Odin and offered the scout a hand up. Odin took the offered hand and hugged Ryan fiercely, tears glistening over his cheeks as the scout burrowed his face against Ryan's chest.

Teresa ran to Jester, her eyes dark with worry as she glanced between him and Jascha. Jascha had stiffened at the sight of Teresa and Ryan, stunned to silence, before he ducked his head and sighed.

"You are both… alright," Jascha wheezed, the lightness of his pained words making Jester doubletake.

Jester had grown so used to hearing Jascha's cold, calculating tone during the mission, that hearing actual lightness - he was sure it was as close to happiness as Jascha would allow himself to reveal - was practically alien. And, to make matters more alien, Jester could swear he thought Jascha was smiling.

Jascha's smile wavered before the injured grenadier groaned and leaned against Jester. "I'm… glad…"

Teresa shot Jester a look before she approached Jascha and carefully looked over his injuries, her eyes sharp with focus. Jester held Jascha's unconscious frame as Teresa drew a canister of Ragnaid from her pack and began administering it to the grenadier.

"We were worried about you two," Jester sighed, "Jascha convinced himself that you and Ryan were likely caught in the avalanche and he's been pretty upset about the idea. I thought… I wasn't sure. I didn't want to believe either of you were hurt but…"

"Ryan and I were lucky. We found shelter before the avalanche hit, and we've been looking for you three since. Neither of us were going to give up on finding you."

Jester smiled weakly, surprised and slightly embarrassed by the concern and worry he heard in Teresa's voice. Across from him, Ryan was comforting Odin - though the shocktrooper looked a little uncomfortable and uncertain as he patted Odin's back stiffly.

"Well, you found us just in time," Jester chuffed, "thanks for that."

"Squad E doesn't leave anyone behind. Our duty is to protect each other," Teresa breathed, "always."

Jester hefted Jascha closer to his chest, just as Ryan and Odin approached him, Teresa and their injured companion. Ryan was holding the radio, his eyes sparking as he stopped in front of Jester.

"I have already tried to contact the _Centurion_ earlier, to inform them of our situation, but there were no receivers that could transmit the call through to the ship. We will need to get closer to the Crystal Sea to get in contact with the ship."

"Understood," Jester sighed, his eyes shifting to Odin, who was holding his side and was pale, and then Jascha. "We need to move out quickly. Ryan, can you gather our supplies while Teresa and I tend to Odin and Jascha?"

Ryan nodded, saluted, and moved towards the bed rolls laid out on the ground, setting to work with quick efficiency. Odin shuffled his feet and hung his head, his shoulders hunching in with clear embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for getting caught," Odin sniffled, "I wasn't able to hold them off and they caught me… I'm sorry, Jester."

"There is nothing to apologize for, you did your best. We couldn't have made it without you, kid."

The smile that flashed across Odin's face was more than enough answer for Jester, who couldn't help but smile back and place a comforting hand on the young scout's shoulder.

"I wouldn't have made it this far without you by my side, Odin."

* * *

Quiet voices woke Jester from his dreamless slumber, his eyes opening slowly and revealing the ceiling of the _Centurion_ 's medical bay. It had been a hard day of travel until the five members of Squad E had been able to contact the _Centurion_ , a day that blurred into two more days before rescue came in the form of the _Cactus_ and most of Squad E.

Jester had never been more relieved to see the cold insides of the _Centurion_ than he was at that moment, knowing that his unit was finally within safe hands. Jascha had wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness the entire three days, though Teresa's extra stores of Ragnaid had done wonders to stabilize the injured man.

Odin, who had been shot once, had shown more of his strength by powering through the march without a single complaint or grumble. Jester had found himself near collapse by the end of the third day, his wounds having drained his strength nearly as much as the march had.

But Ryan and Teresa had been their stalwart protectors, sentinels who never seemed to sleep or rest as they protected their three injured squad mates. The two had even been almost reluctant to let the _Centurion_ 's medics take Jester, Odin and Jascha from their sight, and they had been coming daily to the medical bay since the strike force's return.

So it was no surprise for Jester when he saw Odin and Ryan discussing matters between each other to his right, while Teresa was hovering near Jester, her nose buried in a medical book she'd borrowed from Sergio.

"A pretty girl makes everything better," Jester teased, a small smile tugging at his mouth as Teresa startled out of her reading.

"You never take anything seriously, do you, Jester?" Teresa sounded serious but Jester had known the woman long enough to know when she was joking.

So he smiled and laughed quietly, the worry that had taken refuge within his heart during the entire mission having slowly, finally dissipated. "I'm serious, Teresa. If you and Ryan hadn't swooped in, I don't know where we'd be now."

Teresa's lips turned down into a frown as her brow furrowed and her golden brown eyes downcast. She seemed to argue with herself, her teeth baring as she fought over her words, until Teresa reached out a hand to Jester's shoulder.

"Don't ever worry me like that again, Jester."

The seriousness in Teresa's voice burned away whatever light humor Jester was going to reply with and, with a sigh, Jester nodded. "It's been a long time since anyone was ever genuinely concerned for me, but I'll try. It wasn't my choice to have the mission go ass backwards like that, let alone getting hurt or seeing Jascha and Odin both injured."

Teresa frowned before she cast a glance towards Jascha, who was laid out on a bed to Jester's left. Jascha had been awake when they'd been rescued, and Jester was more than certain that the grenadier had been awake almost every hour since they'd returned. He hadn't heard a word from Jascha and he'd even seen Hanna rebuffed by the grenadier's silence - and Hanna was persistent as all hell, but clearly not as much as Jascha was stubborn and quiet.

"He's not said a word to any of us," Teresa hissed quietly, "Claude's getting worried about Jascha. Hanna reported to our captain yesterday about Jascha, she's really worried about him."

"I'm worried about Jascha too," Jester nodded, "he was pretty bothered when he thought he got you and Ryan caught in the avalanche. He thought he'd killed both of you - Jascha said he'd failed carrying out his duty to protect you both. I'm not sure what to make of his silence now, though."

"I'll talk to him," Teresa reassured before she gathered herself and approached Jascha.

Jester watched keenly as Teresa pulled a stool beside Jascha's bed and whispered something to the grenadier. Jascha turned towards her slightly, his gray eyes once again emotionless, before he said something quietly in return to Teresa.

Teresa shook her head in response and whispered something back to the man. Jascha's eyes shifted towards Jester than past him to Odin and Ryan, any hint of his emotions cloaked behind his distant expression. Jester shot Jascha a smile when the grenadier's eyes shifted past him, an action that seemed to surprise Jascha, who stared at Jester, bewildered.

"What?" Jascha asked, his voice both curious and bewildered as he stared down Jester. Ryan and Odin stopped talking, leaving a sudden, hesitant silence between the five squad members.

"We are worried about you, Jascha. You've been off since we started the mission and now you won't talk to anyone, not even Aulard."

"Worried? About me?" Jascha stammered. "Don't be ridiculous. I am fine, there is no need for all of you to worry about me. Honestly, it's illogical."

"There _is_ reason for us to be worried," Ryan snapped coldly. The mercenary sounded irritated, but Jester knew from their three days of waiting that Ryan cared about Squad E, even if the brusque man was reserved about his feelings for the squad. "It is not healthy to remain so detached from your unit, Jascha, least of all when your detachment originates from fear of 'feelings'."

Jascha said nothing in response and, judging from his shocked expression, he was just as surprised as Jester was by Ryan's words. Finally, Jascha gathered himself with a strained breath before he shook his head.

"I do not… I do not fear 'feelings', as you accuse me of," Jascha growled, "I just do not subscribe to the sentiments most everyone here does. I have no reason to…"

The grenadier trailed off, his eyes shifting away from Jester and the others before he suddenly growled, turned his back on the group, and covered himself with his sheets. Teresa shot Jester a deeply worried look before she reached for Jascha's shoulder.

Jascha jerked away from Teresa's touch as if she had scalded him and the snarl he gave her was not lacking in venom this time. Teresa retracted her hand slowly and the defeat that slumped her shoulders was all too obvious to Jester. It irritated him, seeing the hurt in Teresa's eyes as she joined his side once more, and Jester could not help the anger that snapped from him.

"No need to be churlish," Jester snarled, "we're just trying to help. Squad E cares about you, Jascha, as crazy as that may sound to you."

Jascha kept quiet for so long that the air in the room seemed to go stale, until he gave a huff and coldly snorted. "My parents discouraged any emotional closeness, both with them and with others. I don't fear 'feelings' so much as I do not have any understanding of their purpose. All that has ever come of letting myself be victim to my emotions is pain and hurt."

No one said a word in response to Jascha's admittance, though Teresa and Ryan both gave Jester curious looks. Jester shrugged, uncertain, before he pushed himself up on his elbows and rubbed at the back of his neck.

He remembered the bitterness in Jascha's voice when he'd discussed duty on the Drachenrücken mountains, and the grenadier's parents' expectations of him. From that conversation, he'd suspected that Jascha's coldness had something to do with his parents, but the confirmation of it was no less steadying.

Especially not when Jester himself was familiar with pain inflicted from the shortcomings of one's parents.

"My mother was a drunk," he admitted with a tired shrug of his shoulders. Jester didn't feel as casual about his mother as he tried to sound, but he didn't need his friends to hear the anger he felt towards her. "She spent every day of her life in the house, always on a bender, ever since I was a kid. My father worked himself to death trying to earn enough money to keep food on our table, and I never really knew anything of comfort from him. I hated my mother for what she did to my father and I… and I turned to gambling to try and find comfort somewhere else.

"I was angry and bitter, but I made friends who helped me away from the same path my mother traveled. It hurts, sometimes, exposing one's self to the vulnerability of emotions, I know that… but friends are worth the risk."

Jascha turned his head ever so slightly towards Jester, though it was just enough for him to see Jascha's gray eyes and the emotions simmering within them. Jester shrugged again and made a self-deprecating laugh.

"I'd rather say I loved someone and lost them than that I never got to know them. What are we but shells if we do not expose our hearts?"


End file.
